


linger

by spacereylos (manbunjon)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manbunjon/pseuds/spacereylos
Summary: “They’re just scars.” She whispered, the warmth of her breath fanning out across his neck and making gooseflesh pepper across his flesh. “They don’t matter.”





	linger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anakin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anakin/gifts).



He nearly jumped when she set her lips to him; her touch so feather-light that at first he thought it was a mistake. She must have been reaching for his mouth, he thought. Surely she did not mean to touch her lips to the part of him that he hated most of all. Her mouth was slow and sure as it moved across the mottled flesh of his chest but her eyes held uncertainty. She hesitated, lifting her eyes to his as she felt him stiffen beneath her touch.

As he had carded his fingers through her dark hair, Ben had undone the buttons of his tunic and thoughtlessly let the fabric pool at his feet. In that moment he had cared more for the way her lips felt as they skimmed down his neck than for the ugly flesh that marred his chest. It was the only part of him that he had ever hid from her, praying that she would never have to set her eyes upon the true extent of the disfigurement.

Rey had watched as his bare chest was divulged from beneath his dark tunic. She had ached to run her fingers through the smattering of dark curls at the base of his chest, her eyes following the firm ripple of muscle as he moved.

And then she found the scar.

Born upon his cheek it curved across the side of his neck to continue lower, carving across his torso and leaving his otherwise unmarked chest rough and uneven. Without a thought she lifted her hand to run her fingers across the taut flesh but he flinched, jerking backward to avoid her touch.

It was enough to break the stupor that engulfed her and she pulled back. “Ben-“ she breathed. Her hand was still raised, fingers reaching out toward empty air.

He had seen he way she eyed the pock marked flesh in horror, his arms rising instinctively to cover it. “Don’t.” he whispered. His voice, usually so stout and assured, was irresolute. He did not look at her, afraid to see pity in her eyes.

A long moment of terse silence stretched between them. She stood abruptly, Ben afraid that she would stalk away, the sharpness of her movements having drawn his eyes to hers, a half-formed apology falling still on his lips.

But she only stood there, with fists balled and dark hair falling into her eyes without his fingers to brush it away. It was almost a challenge, the way she stood, but beneath her heavily furrowed brow her eyes held the exigency that betrayed her true emotions, and before he could call out to her she began to unlace her tunic. Ben watched as her fingers worked methodically, the fabric parting and falling away to reveal naked skin beneath. With her back to him Rey pointed toward her shoulder, Ben dragging his eyes from the curve of her waist to the point where she drew his focus.

A set of long scratches lay across her back, long ago healed but remaining faintly pink. At first glance they looked like claw marks. “Fight with a scavenger.” She said, her expression deadpan.

Turning, she bared her arm to him, so close to his eye that Ben automatically raising his fingers to trace the mark, having recognized it at once. He had been present when it had been inflicted that day in the throne room and though it felt so long ago the cut remained a shade of angry red consistent with fresh wounds, raised and taut, but no longer sore.

Rey propped her foot up on the chair between his legs, lifting the wispy fabric of the skirt that she had yet to discard and parting her legs. Ben’s mouth ran suddenly dry. The position he held, caged between her legs, left him unable to draw his eyes to any sight but the most private part of her. He cursed himself for remembering the taste of her on his lips.

His eyes traveled higher, finding on her right thigh a garnet slash where her skin had yet to properly heal. “Fell.” She expired, suddenly very aware of the fact that he could see the outline of her beneath her thin smallclothes. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “A piece of rusted steel.”

Ben, having not realised what had come over him until his lips met her bare flesh, left a trail of warm kisses across the welt. He lifted his head to press his mouth to her scar, feeling her skin smooth and otherwise unblemished beneath his parted lips. It felt odd but not otherwise unpleasant and Rey could feel a soft throbbing need begin to build within her, dwindling only slightly when he pulled away.

“Ben.” She breathed. She moved to sit upon his lap as she had so many times before. Her arms lay across his shoulders to encircle his neck, the way she nosed softly at his neck half tickling, half arousing. “They’re just scars.” She whispered, the warmth of her breath fanning out across his neck and making gooseflesh pepper across his flesh. “They don’t matter.”

She said nothing more, allowing the conversation to fall to him, her mouth otherwise occupied.

Once again she had bowed her head, lowered her lips to his chest. He flinched again; out of habit and out of response to the sensation of the still raw flesh being brushed. But he did not pull away.

“They don’t matter.” She repeated and Ben found himself nodding.

The scar was still jagged and ugly, its constant presence a shaming reminder of the man he once was. But she loved him anyway; and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> __  
>  [originally posted on my tumblr](https://lastjedis.tumblr.com/post/172054604343/reylo-fic-prompt-3-rey-and-kylo-kissing-each)   
> 


End file.
